


ugly sweater

by scumfuck



Category: IT 2017
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Reddie, Richie Tozier - Freeform, Theyre gay, also aged up?, but nothing bad happens!!!!!, nothing promiscuous, richie and eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scumfuck/pseuds/scumfuck
Summary: "You know what I need?" Richie's voice was mischevious, like a child planning a prank. Eddie rolled his eyes."What could you possibly need?"Richie bit his lip, tugging on Eddie's sleeve. "Another sweater," he said, finally. Eddie dropped the jeans he was holding and glared up at him."I'm not letting you get another ugly sweater, idiot," he retorted.





	ugly sweater

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a HOT minute since i've written reddie!

"Look at this one!" Richie opened up a top hat and rested it on top of his curls, his fingers toying with the rim of it. Eddie glanced up from where he was looking for jeans and smiled. Richie couldn't see him, but Richie was tall enough to peer over the racks of clothes.

  
"Abraham Lincoln never looked so good," Eddie muttered, pulling out a pair of tan corduroy pants and feeling the fabric in between his fingers. Richie laughed, flattening it again and slipping it back on the shelf.

  
He circled the racks so he was in the same aisle as Eddie, pretending to be interested in the flannel golf pants towards the end. He slowly inches back to Eddie, a smirk on his face.

  
"What is it that you need here again?" Richie asked, his hand coming back behind Eddie's neck and playing with the hair there. Eddie shivered and pressed his head back against the warm hand.

  
"I need new pants, Richie," he answered. "My legs grew last summer. All my jeans are like," he hit against the middle of his shin, "right here."

  
Richie leaned all his weight on his boyfriend and let his eyes droop. "My Eddie finally hit his growth spurt," he gushed.

  
Eddie stood up straighter, shrugging Richie off. "Fuck you, Tozier."

  
"You know what I need?" Richie's voice was mischevious, like a child planning a prank. Eddie rolled his eyes.

  
"What could you possibly need?"

  
Richie bit his lip, tugging on Eddie's sleeve. "Another sweater," he said, finally. Eddie dropped the jeans he was holding and glared up at him.

  
"I'm not letting you get another ugly sweater, idiot," he retorted.

  
Richie cackled and let go of Eddie before strolling quickly to the other side of the thrift shop. He started to sift through the ten cent shirts. Eddie eyed him carefully, before he hugged and shoved the hanger back on the rack.

  
"I hate you," he mumbled to himself, before catching up with Richie, who was holding a sweater up to his chest.  
It had to be one of the ugliest sweaters Eddie had ever laid his eyes on. It was long sleeved and covered in vertical lines, comprised of over five different colors. Blue, green, brown, mustard yellow, orange, and even a hot pink. The lines were squiggle and patterned awfully. It was what Eddie imagined the room looked like when you get vertigo.

  
"Feel this," Richie ordered, handing out the sleeve of the sweater for Eddie to feel. When he did so, it was soft, as soft as a blanket, or skin, or fluffy hair after its brushed. Richie was grinning wide, watching Eddie intently as he rubbed the sleeve against the side of his cheek. "You like?"

  
Eddie ripped himself away from the sweater. "No."

  
"Yeah you do," Richie nudged him in the side, pressing his hand over his chest so the sweater lay over him.

  
"No I don't."

  
"You do."

  
"I don't!"

  
"You do!"

  
Eddie was frustrated, his eyebrows threaded together angrily as he shot daggers at Richie. He simply made a dopey face back at him.

  
"I'm buying it," Richie concluded, smugly towering over Eddie and sneering. Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't make him not buy it, he guessed. Richie smirked even more, leaning into his face. "And I'm gonna wear it to school," he added.

  
Eddie turned away, briskly taking his way back to the jeans he picked up before. He didn't want Richie to see the undertone of a smile on his lips.

  
"You know you love me!" Richie called over the racks of clothes. Eddie rolled his eyes and craned his neck over his shoulder.

  
"I hate you!"

* * *

 

The first time Richie wore the sweater while Eddie was around was in school. He paired it with ripped jeans and battered sneakers. Eddie was glad they were jeans, too; Usually, Richie would put a terrible pattern with another awful one. Eddie could never talk him out of buying hideous neon colored pants that preteens wore. 

They were at lunch, outside, because it was a beautiful day. The losers laid under a tree, Richie's back against the trunk, and Eddie in his lap. Richie was staring at a cut on his finger. 

"Paper cuts are the worst thing ever," he stated. Eddie scoffed, and reached out to hold Richie's "injured" hand. 

"Or, y'know, murder, drugs, alcohol-" 

Richie cut him off. "Paper cuts!" Then he wagged his finger in Eddie's face. Eddie flinched and cursed. 

"I'm trying to study," Stan deadpanned at them. Richie laughed and hoisted Eddie farther up on his lap. Eddie positioned himself to where his head leaned into the soft fabric of the sweater. He could have fallen asleep then, because of the sun whispering through the leaves of the tree, and the scent of Richie he caught a whiff of every time he breathed softly. 

Eddie played with the cuff of the sweater, laying right on Richie's wrist. 

"Is the sweater growing on you?" Richie asked, his voice full of pride. Eddie dropped the hem and rolled his eyes.

"No." 

Beverly laughed at them. "It's the ugliest sweater I've ever seen, Rich. One of your worst." 

Richie scoffed. "Please, nothing would ever top the one my aunt sent us from L.A. The one with the frog print on it?" 

Eddie cringed. "You wore that for a week. I wouldn't touch you until you took it off." 

Richie cracked up, and Eddie could feel his stomach underneath him. "Hey, I couldn't go longer than that. I was deprived of you," he whined, and tickled Eddie's sides, making the smaller boy squirm. 

"Gross," Eddie replied. 

He snuggled farther into him, and rested his head on his chest, praying that the lunch bell would wait just a couple more minutes before they had to leave. 

* * *

Richie then wore it weeks later on his and Eddie's date night. Richie's parents were both on night shifts, Richie claiming his father had to do a root canal and his mother was waitressing again to stay out of the house. 

Eddie could have screamed when he walked in and saw it. Instead, he stared at it, and leaned up to kiss the corner of Richie's lips. He walked past him and into the den, where Richie had a movie screen ready to play. The screen was flashing Ferris Bueller, and Eddie snorted. 

"We watched this last time, Rich," he called over his shoulder. Richie stepped in, juggling a bowl of popcorn and two sodas in his hand. He wore a wide smile on his lips, and his glasses were crookedly placed on his nose.

"I know. We never got to finish it 'cause you fell asleep last time," he answered. 

"I didn't fall asleep!" Eddie snapped. "I was resting my eyes." 

Richie sat down on the couch and made grabby hands for Eddie to join him. He obliged reluctantly.

"Yeah," Richie whined, "And you were too cute to wake up." 

Eddie sat close to his boyfriend, his legs overtop the others, and hanging off the couch. It was too awkward an angle to hug him and the couch wasn't big enough to sit on his lap, so they made do. 

Richie played the movie where they left off, which was somewhere around the pool scene. Eddie had seen it a million times; he didn't really understand what was so timeless about the movie, it just was. 

He played with a string on Richie's pants as he stared intently at the screen. Richie's nose was in his hair, and Eddie could feel it every time he laughed at the movie. Eddie moved from his pants to his sweater again, unconsciously. He involuntarily wrapped himself into Richie's arm, bringing it around his shoulder and curling into his side.

When the movie ended, Eddie nuzzled into the sweater. He felt Richie's hand brushing back his hair, pressing into his forehead lightly with the tips of his fingers. 

Eddie craned his neck to look up at him. Richie must've removed his glasses some point after the film ended, because his eyes were squinted but clear when he looked down at his boyfriend. Eddie could feel his breath on his face. 

"Hey," he breathed. Eddie clutches onto the sleeve of the sweater, then moved to the plush collar. He felt Richie shiver under the touch, and he giggled. 

Eddie brought Richie's jaw in and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft and barely there, but when he opened his eyes, Richie seemed as if he was in heaven. 

He toyed with the fabric and kissed him again, more passionately this time. It caught the boy off guard, but he leaned up and caught Eddie's lip in between his.

Eddie pulled back and ducked his head into Richie's neck, laughing and pressing kisses right where the collar of his sweater started. 

"Glad I bought this sweater, huh?" Richie pulled on Eddie's own shirt. 

Eddie shook his head in his neck. "Nope. Worst sweater ever."

Richie scoffed. If a boy wasn't draped over his chest, he would've grabbed his chest and pretended as if he was stabbed in the heart. "You wound me," he quoted the rehearsed line.

Eddie smiled against the smooth, pale skin. 

"Don't care, babe," he replied, and continued to play with the sweater. 

Richie turned his head so that his nose was back in Eddie's hair. He kissed the top of his head and wrapped his arms back around the boy. "You're in denial, Eds." 


End file.
